The Sword is in the Stone
by H. Wolff
Summary: On one of the infrequent days of calm, Roran invites Carn to a private tent to discuss urgent matters involving a sword.


I have rated this story T for _slightly_ detailed acts of male-on-male homosexuality and use of some profanity and other course language. If you are at all offended by homosexuality, I suggest you stop reading right now and forget this fanfiction exists. For those of you that aren't offended, you may proceed onward and be disappointed by the lack of detail.

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**The Sword is in the Stone**

How he'd convinced Eragon to reserve a private tent for him he didn't quite recall, though he imagined it had something to do with a lie about his desire to be passionate with Katrina. Eragon, all a-tizzy, had agreed to the idea without pressing him for questions. Roran knew his cousin wasn't quite a dimwit, but had the Rider thought he'd immediately have found several very solid reasons not to give him a private tent, the most preclusive that Roran and his wife _already had_ their own.

So, why then, did he need a tent?

He had seen many battles, during all of which he managed to survive despite astounding odds against him. During those sure-death battles, he had found a weak mage supporting him… and growing more and more attractive as the grueling days passed.

So there he sat, upon a cot, idly wondering if Carn was aware, that by accepting his invitation to this tent, he was also accepting whatever Stronghammer decided he should do with him…

The seconds ticked by, and right as Roran found himself about to send for the mage, Carn peeled aside the tent flap and greeted him with an inclination of his head and a firm, "Stronghammer."

"Ah, Carn," Roran greeted him, nodding to relieve him of his formal stance. "I was just about to send for you for fear you'd forgotten about my invitation."

The mage stood by the exit, glancing around the barren, impersonal makeshift room. "You wanted to see me about something?"

Roran nodded slowly, watching Carn with predator's eyes. Carn didn't seem to be his usual, high-energy self at that moment. He was wary, like a cornered animal. Perhaps, though, he felt he was shirking his work for an idle chat.

After another awkward moment of silence, Roran spoke: "I have actually called you here so that we may reflect upon a very serious matter."

Carn stepped closer, and as he did Roran stood and took a step close to him. Before the mage could inquire, he was snug against Roran's chest, hearing the rapid beating of his nervous heart.

"The matter I have summoned you to discuss is undoubtedly related to my raging erection."

Immediately Carn had pushed him backward with a frantic, "Excuse me?"

"The length of my sword can no longer be treated by a woman's hands." Evermore serious, he stepped closer to Carn, who had, miraculously, calmed down a considerable amount in the fast few seconds.

"Yes, Stronghammer?" he had inquired, closing the gap between the two of them so they stood less than a foot apart. "And whose hands shall cure you?"

"I wish for those hands to be yours." Roran took the mage's hands in his own, bringing then to his lips for a gentle kiss. "I will accept no other."

Carn curiously ran a hand down Roran's chest, letting his fingertips travel lower and lower until he reached the problem of with his commander had spoken. "I feel your pain," he mused aloud, cupping the rapidly solidifying mass to massage it in a way that certainly was not meant to give satisfaction. "Stronghammer, I fear my hands may not accomplish the task you have given them, however…"

Roran watched him curiously, noting a smirk playing across Carn's thin lips.

"However," he continued with a glance upward to meet his suitor's eyes, "I believe I can put the rest of my body into service for you."

And before he could comprehend what had just been said, Roran found himself flat on the ground, with a suddenly maddened little mage straddling his aching "problem."

"Carn," he cooed, rather amused at this turn of events, "it's good to see you so lively."

The mage didn't respond, instead choosing to focus his attentions on disrobing the both of them. Realizing this, Roran quickly stripped his own torso, leaving Carn to shed his robes solo.

"Ah, Mage, no woman could hold such a profound beauty," Roran murmured, hands on the small of Carn's back and pulling him closer. He trailed little kisses over the exposed flesh, leaving a few choice marks despite Carn's quiet protests. "If such a woman were to exist, mortals would surely die in her ungodly presence, Carn."

"Enough with the mushy shit," the mage soon interjected, forcing Roran flat again so that he may have his way. "Now stay still so I can try to pretend you're a fucking Urgal."

_An Urgal?_ Roran immediately thought, expression blank in his complete confusion. The thought immediately after that was a simple _What?_

Carn stripped Roran of anything else he might have been wearing - pants, for example - and immediately began to toy with his commander's solid shaft.

Stronghammer immediately forgot his negative thoughts under Carn's expert play, and let himself relax to enjoy the feeling of, first, experienced fingertips, and second, experienced tongue. He thought he might hit his climax in but a moment, but, sensing that, the mage stopped.

To Roran's odd, inquisitive look, he replied, "You ain't seen nothing' yet."

He positioned himself over his partner's throbbing shaft, and, with one quick forward motion, followed by one in the opposite direction, he accepted the full length of the shaft into his body. Overcome by this new sensation - tighter than Katrina - Roran let out a low groan.

Meanwhile, as Stronghammer has his pleasure, Carn had his. He rocked to and fro on the sturdy rod, taking it to the hilt. As he swayed frantically, he panted, forcing himself to stay in a somewhat upright position by placing his palms flat on the ground.

After a short time, he felt himself and his lover too, fast approaching their climaxes. Carn hit his first, shuddering noticeably and exhaling a very pleased sigh. Roran was next, and he found himself having his orgasm without caring to remove himself from the mage.

Thoroughly pleasured, Carn leaned close to Roran's face, smiling broadly. "You're pretty good, but you still aren't as pretty as an Urgal, or as sexy as a Kull."

Roran facepalmed.

Fin.

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Now that I've given you this detail-lacking story, I'll mention that I created this fanfic to be purely humorous. After reading the third book in the cycle, myself, a true yaoi fan, thought, "Hey, wouldn't it be awesome if Roran and Carn were gay for each other?"

Well, in the end I didn't at all follow my previous plan, which was to write a semi-humorous hardcore piece of smut. But hey, despite that, I still found that I rather enjoyed the writing and editing process for this humorous tale where these two are _completely _out of character.

And... that's all from me. So, I'll see you in the future if I ever decide to write more zany fanfiction.


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